


Just For Tonight

by riddlemethisayepotter



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Steve Rogers, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Smut, This was supposed to be a short all-smut oneshot, Top Bucky Barnes, they had other ideas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:07:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24895153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riddlemethisayepotter/pseuds/riddlemethisayepotter
Summary: A short pre-serum story of cold winter nights, snuggling for warmth and awkward boners. This is a story of two idiot boys in love who find that sharing a bed is making it a lot harder to pretend that they don't feel what they do. Pining, smut, and fluff ensues.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 10
Kudos: 78





	1. Don't call me doll

**Author's Note:**

> I never understood other authors being like "this was supposed to be a one shot but these characters had other ideas!" but oh boy, do I owe them all an apology. This was meant to be a short, PWP fic that was just pure smutty goodness. Then they took it on their own path and now it's a couple of chapters long! 
> 
> For anyone waiting on The Aviary, I'm sorry! Ya gal has maaaad ADHD and I literally could not write more on the aviary until I got this out! I'll hopefully update in the next week!

It was one of those nights where the bitterly cold wind seemed to blow right through the gaps in the wood of their tiny little apartment in Brooklyn, lowering the temperature of the air until every breath felt like his lungs were full of needles. Steve huddled down further in his bed, pulling the soft worn blanket up over his head, curling in on himself in a futile attempt at warmth.

“Stevie, I can hear your damn teeth chattering from over here. I don’t know why you insist on this same old song and dance every damn time” Bucky said exasperatedly from his bed on the other side of the narrow dark room.

“Bucky, I’m f-f-fine. Just go to sleep” Steve ground out from between his futilely clenched teeth.

“Well, I’d love to Stevie, but it feels like there’s an earthquake in here with your shivering! The floorboards are rattling like the train just went past” Bucky retorted. Steve groaned and rolled over, lowering the blankets enough to shoot a glare over at Bucky. “Quit exaggerating, Buck. I told you, I’m not coming over there. It was fine when we were kids, but we’re grown men” Steve grumbled.

“And last winter? Three weeks ago? Oh, _two nights ago_!?” Bucky shot back. He snorted, rolling over in the bed and turning his back to Steve. “Fine, suit yourself. Enjoy losing a toe or two.” The room was quiet for a few minutes, with only Steve’s chattering teeth and the menacing howling of the wind outside to disrupt the silence. Finally, there was a heavy resigned sigh, followed by the creaking of worn bed springs and the pattering of sock covered feet across the old floorboards.

Bucky smirked into the darkness, before turning over and scooting to the edge of his bed, lifting the blankets in front of him with one arm, and holding them open for Steve to slide into the inviting nest of warmth. He sat up a little to drape Steve’s extra blanket over the top of them before lying down on his side and curving his body protectively around Steve’s small lithe frame. He slid his arm under Steve’s head, before wrapping his other arm around his waist and pulling his still shivering frame against Bucky’s warm hard body. Steve seemed to have given up his pretence of reluctance, sliding his frozen feet up to entwine with Bucky’s calves and pressing his back against the delicious warmth of Bucky’s broad chest, sighing in relief.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, Stevie” Bucky murmured teasingly, lips so close to Steve’s ear that he could feel the warmth of his breath tickling his ear. Steve shivered, but for once it wasn’t due to the cold. He half heartedly nudged Bucky, muttering “yeah, yeah, it’s just for tonight”, before they both fell into a deep sleep, safe in the warmth of each other’s embrace.

‘Just for tonight’, became two nights, then three, and then four. By the fifth night, Steve hadn’t even bothered with the pretence of starting the night in his own bed; simply pushing Bucky over in the bed before climbing under the blankets, ignoring Bucky’s startled but amused glance as he settled in against him, before chirping a nonchalant goodnight and closing his eyes. Neither of them would ever admit it, but lying in each other’s arms each night, warmer and more secure than they’d ever been, felt like sanctuary. It felt like home.

There was just one problem. They were both young men, with the ‘appetites’ common among all young men. Normally in the warmer months, they’d take care of themselves quickly in the shower, with neither of them the wiser. During winter, they executed a sort of comfortable pretence of ignorance. When one of them felt the urge, they would lie quietly in the darkness, feigning sleep until they were sure the other was asleep. Then they would slip a hand inside their shorts, jerking themselves with frantic quick strokes, stifling moans and breathing fast. If sometimes the other would still be secretly awake, straining their ears to hear those quiet moans and panting breaths, growing steadily harder until they couldn’t help but slide a hand under the blankets and stroke themselves in time with the groans; well, nobody had to know.

Sleeping in the same bed had stopped those moments, but the appetites remained and continued to grow until it finally reached boiling point two weeks later. Steve awoke abruptly in the middle of the night. He was disoriented for a moment, unable to decipher why he’d woken up, when he felt it. Bucky, curled behind him, had his arms tightly wrapped around Steve and was grinding his cock against Steve’s ass. Steve could feel the warmth of Bucky’s hard length through both of their pants, could feel how thick he was and how desperately he gyrated against Steve, seeking friction. He froze, unsure what to do. Bucky couldn’t be awake, could he? He wouldn’t do this while awake, surely!

Steve remained paralysed, body flushing with arousal in a way he had never felt before. Sure, he’d jerked off plenty of times. He’d seen plenty of beautiful dames before, but they’d never inspired his fantasies like thoughts of phantom dark haired men did, and _god_ , he was not even going to think about the nights he came to the sounds of Bucky’s delectable quiet moans in the darkness. But _this_ , this was something else entirely.

He was rock hard inside his pants, leaking more and more precum with every grind of Bucky’s hips against his ass. Steve sucked in a shuddering breath, and very slowly he shifted in the bed. He gasped when he got the angle right and Bucky’s cock slid in between the cheeks of his ass, sliding up and down the cleft, nearly make Steve yelp when he felt the incredible slide of the hard warm bulge rub against his hole, unmistakable even through the cotton of their pants. Apparently, it wasn’t only him who was affected.

“ _Fuck_ , baby” Bucky murmured, applying more pressure to each slide, and tightening his grip on Steve’s waist. Steve could have cum just from hearing Bucky utter those words. Instead he began slowly pushing back to meet Bucky’s small teasing thrusts, bringing their desperate searching bodies even closer until they were flush together. Steve couldn’t imagine that Bucky was asleep anymore. This was too real and hot and intimate, and everything Steve had ever wished for in the most private parts of his mind. Before he gave in to everything he ever wanted, he decided that he had to give in to one last moment of reason.

“Bucky? Buck, what are you doing?” he whispered. There was no response. He tried again. “Buck” he said, a little louder. There was only the sounds of Bucky’s breathing and the fabric of their pajamas moving, until Bucky quietly moaned “ _doll”._ Steve froze once again and tasted the familiar bitter tang of disappointment on his tongue, accompanied by an unfamiliar prickling of tears behind his eyes. He was hurt and he was angry; angry with Bucky for being his usual doll dizzy self, and anger with himself for being stupid enough to believe Bucky could want him like that. He was skinny little Steve Rogers. How did he expect that Bucky Barnes, the man with a hundred broken hearted dames in his wake, could ever want somebody so weak, skinny and most damning of all, a man?

He held back a sob, and he knew he couldn’t spend one minute more like this, lying in the arms of the man he knew would never want him, desperately clinging to the fantasy and delusions that for one magic moment felt so close to reality. He wriggled his way out of Bucky’s grasp as slowly as he could, before climbing into his own bed again. It had never felt quite this cold and unwelcoming before. Steve pulled the blankets over his head and pressed his face into his lumpy hard pillow. If he cried himself to sleep that night, shivering in the icy expanse of his painfully empty bed, well, nobody knew but him.


	2. Anytime and Always

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut will be coming very soon, but please enjoy a lot of fluff and protective Bucky Barnes in the meantime!

If Bucky was surprised (and a little hurt) to wake up to a cold bed and empty arms the following morning, one look at Steve’s face discouraged him from saying anything about it. That night, neither of them spoke as they got into their own beds. Their draughty little apartment had always been a safe haven; when the world outside was cold and dark and unforgiving, too wide and impersonal, they’d always been able to count on their retreat to the safe zone of their home together. They were really only a meter or so apart, but that rift had never felt as big as it did at that moment.

Things continued in much the same vein for another few weeks, and Bucky kept his mouth shut through long nights of listening to Steve shiver his way into a restless sleep. He could sense that a line had been crossed, but he had no idea what or when, and therefore no idea how he could possibly fix things. Steve was keeping him at arm’s length; cracking polite impersonal jokes, bantering with him like one would a co-worker, making small talk until Bucky felt like he would scream.

Enough was enough he decided, as he trudged home from his shift at the factory one cold damp Friday evening at the end of a cold damp week. He would speak to Steve as soon as he got back to the apartment, or at the very least after dinner. Decision made, he picked up his pace with a renewed spring in his step at the thoughts of getting this sorted and getting his best friend back.

He turned his key in the apartment door, banging just above the lock with the heel of his hand before pushing the door open and wiggling the key out of its slot.

“Steve? Stevie, I’m home” he said in a singsong voice as he kicked off his boots, hoping it would help ease some of the awkwardness. There was no response, and there was no food cooking like there normally was on days Steve was home first (so, most of them). Bucky listened for a moment, before he heard something that made his blood run cold. It was possibly his least favourite sound in the world, the sound of one of Steve’s asthma attacks. The sounds of him struggling to draw in air, gasping and wheezing, were heard throughout the apartment, each breath Steve couldn’t get in feeling like a knife in Bucky’s chest.

He dropped his bag and sprinted into their bedroom, finding Steve wearing just his undershirt and his shorts, sitting hunched over on his bed, and gasping for air. As soon as Bucky got close to Steve, he could feel and see the heat of a fever raging through his body. The tell-tale flush spread from his face all the way down his chest, his hair plastered to his face with sweat. Steve usually stayed fairly calm during attacks like these, more exasperated at his body and people having to see him like that than actual worry for his own sake. But right now, Bucky could see panic in his eyes. Bucky knew it was crucial that he keep a straight head himself when Steve was like this, and on the outside, he always succeeded. Inside though, he was filled with the kind of gut-wrenching terror that only came with the risk of losing someone who mattered more than anything or anyone else in the world.

Bucky dashed to the cupboard they kept their meagre medical supplies in. He swore when he pulled out the small green Asthmador box and saw they were down to their last few asthma cigarettes. He grabbed the box and the matches sitting next to it, hurrying back to Steve’s side. He climbed up onto the bed behind Steve, his back to the hard iron bars of the bed, positioning him in between his legs and tugging gently on his shoulders until he leaned his weight back against Bucky’s chest. Bucky grabbed a cigarette out of the packet before carefully lighting it and lifting it to Steve’s lips.

“Easy, doll. There you go. Deep breath out and then breathe it in. That’s it, Stevie. I know, cough if you need, it’ll be easier in a minute. That’s a good boy” he coached in a low comforting tone, rubbing soothing circles across Steve’s shoulders and back. After a few minutes, some of the rigidity seemed to drain from Steve’s body and his breathing started to even out from frantic shallow breaths to slower deeper ones. Once the cigarette was finished, Bucky plucked it from Steve’s fingers and stubbed it out on the crate that served as a bedside table, before wrapping an arm around Steve’s waist and pulling him a little closer. Steve, too exhausted and ill to argue, leaned back against him until his head lolled against Bucky’s shoulder, before tilting it to fit right in the crook of Bucky’s neck, his lips just centimetres away from the soft yet stubbly skin. Bucky was rigid, holding himself completely still, even with the soft gold strands of Steve’s hair tickling his chin. He didn’t want to scare Steve away, was too enraptured with this closeness after weeks of distance, and so he was determined to stay still.

And then Steve pressed his head forward, nuzzling his face into Bucky’s neck before murmuring “Thank you, Buck”. Bucky could feel the warmth of Steve’s lips against his neck as he spoke, pressing there as if kissing him and any willpower he might have possessed left him. He wrapped his arms even tighter around Steve, loving how small and delicate he felt against Bucky’s own much larger frame, before pressing a kiss to the top of Steve’s head and nuzzling his face against the soft strands.

“Anytime and always, doll. You know that. What happened, Stevie? You sick again? Why didn’t you tell me?” Bucky asked quietly.

“Mhm, didn’t want you to worry. I thought it’d be fine, just a cold I could shake off” came the reply, muffled slightly from being spoken against Bucky’s neck.

“Steve, baby, when have you ever been able to get rid of a cold without dramas? Especially in the middle of god damn February, in a week as damp as this one!” Bucky groused exasperatedly, but without heat. Steve smiled weakly from his hiding place in the larger man’s arms, knowing it was just Bucky being worried about him. His eyes started to drift closed, the exhaustion from the illness and the asthma attack hitting him.

“Well, you never know. Maybe one of these days the cold will be trying to shake _me_ off” Steve murmured sleepily, eliciting a snort from Bucky. The last thing Steve was aware of was Bucky pulling the blankets over the two of them, still keeping Steve wrapped tightly in his arms, before pressing a kiss to his forehead and whispering “Sleep, doll.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why, yes, I did in fact do a fair chunk of research into 1940's asthma treatments for what was supposed to be a PWP. Why do you ask?
> 
> Asthmador was one brand of an over the counter treatment for asthma back in the day. It was a powder of different herbs, like belladonna and thorn apple, that came as a cigarette that you would smoke during an asthma attack. It actually worked! However, it also was hallucinogenic and came with a risk of overdose. Shoutout to actual inhalers lol 
> 
> https://www.australianpharmacist.com.au/the-original-puffer-2/

**Author's Note:**

> Your kudos and comments are literally some of the brightest spots in my life and they're so appreciated! Every notification brings a smile to my face, so please leave a comment or a kudos if you can! Thank you so much for reading, my beautiful humans xx


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